Not All Treasure is Silver and Gold
by Phiametta
Summary: Gandalf believes that fifteen is a much better number then fourteen, and asks a very Very old friend to help Thorin on his quest of claiming back Erebor. Will Thorin warm up to the fifteenth member? Many believe not because She is and Elf. An Elf with a Temper. An Elf with a very Long and interesting past. An Elf who is more then capable to fend for herself. Thorin X OC
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: I spent weeks on this prologue, but I LOVE the way it turned out. I hope you all like, and don't forget to REVIEW!

Disclaimor: I own nothing but Valaira

Not all Treasure is Silver and Gold

Prologue

She was the oddball of the family. Both of her parents had golden hair along with her older sister. How she was born with dark brown hair was beyond her. But her hair color was not the only thing that made her the outcast of the family. She preferred to be alone, all her life she would spend months away from her family living in the woods. She would sleep in the trees, bathe in the streams, and eat various nuts and berries. She became an expert at identifying the edible and poisonous plants and berries.

Away from her family she came across the Lothlorien protectors, they taught her the basics of the bow and arrow at a young age, she mastered the craft.

Years later she came across the march warden, he showed her how to handle a sword, in return she showed him a thing or two about archery, she had learned much with that particular weapon.

As she grew older, she ventured farther and farther from her home, she visited her sister and her family. She befriended some interesting people, treated the wounded, and found that she was more like her mother then she had thought.

On one of her travels she had witnessed two young male men harassing a young woman, they were obviously drunk. It was relatively harmless until they started pushing her and making grabs for her chest. She had often seen this type of behavior from Men, and it angered her to no end. She felt that anger rush in her veins as she reached for an arrow to fire a warning shot at the two offenders while remaining unseen. The young woman tried making a run for it, but the taller of her harassers snatched her wrist and yanked hard, causing her to fall backwards to the gravel, and she was then kicked. As she released the arrow tip had changed to s stunning light blue, and as it hit the building to the right of the group, two white sparks the size of a child's fist knocked into the two mens chest, throwing them to the ground unconscious.

She discovered she had inherited her mothers' magical abilities. She did not even know how to use them, or what they were capable of. She had to go home. But the elf sprinted to the young woman and helped her to stand.

"Thank you, these two halfwits have been pestering me for weeks now." The woman explained.

"They should not be bothering you for a while, I suspect. I suggest you be amongst others when out at night." She made to leave, but the woman's soft hand caught her arm.

"Wait! Would you like somewhere to sleep? A hot meal?"

"No thank you, I must be getting home. Stay safe." And with that she left.

The woman watched curiously as the elf left, then at the arrow that was still imbedded in the wood still glowing blue.

She had never made it back to Lothlorien faster then she did that night. She did not even bother to creep past the guards protecting the city, she just ran past them while they were giving her odd looks. But considering this was Valaira they were talking about, it was quite normal.

She found her father speaking with one of the guard as she searched for her mother. As she quickly passed him their eyes met briefly, his had brightened. It had been a few years since his daughter had been home. She found her mother braiding Celebrians hair.

"My sister! What has happened to you? Your eyes.." Valairas sister exclaimed.

Her mother, Galadriel, had finished with the last braid in her sisters hair, and interrupted her eldest daughter. "Celebrian, please, leave us."

Celebrians' eyes were widened in shock, but despite her curiosity followed her mothers command.

"And find your father and inform him that I wish to speak with him." Celebrian nodded her head and left.

"Sit my daughter." Galadriel motioned for her youngest to take Celebrians seat.

"Whats wrong with my eyes?" Valaira questioned cautiously.

Rather then telling her, Galadriel placed a handheld mirror into her daughters hand.

Now, Valaira was not accustomed to seeing her reflection, in the woods she did not carry anything that would allow her that privilege. The first thing she noticed was how dirty her face and hair were, first thing she needed was to bathe. Now her eyes, her normally light blue eyes had lost their color, and were now a strange silvery gray color.

She was speechless.

"Tell me what happened." Galadriel sat back down into her chair behind Valaira.

"I was just aiding a young woman and…my arrow lit up. She was being harassed by inebriated adolescents and I have seen that behavior too many times to count and it just fuels my anger."

"What happened to the men?" Her mother had started detangling her hair with a silver brush.

" They fell unconscious, sparks from the light in the arrow shot into their chests."

" You have been gifted by the Aratar, the high ones of Arda. Before you came to this world, I had a vision. The Aratar came to warn that one of their Lords, Melkor, was planning something that would result in the death of thousands of Men. And the power given to the protectors in this world would not be able to stop him. They chose you to be given this power. I have not given this information to you, or anyone, in fear that you would be taken, and ultimately unable to overthrow this dark power."

"Why would you leave me to roam the lands alone if I am so important? I know nothing of these powers given to me, I could have hurt an innocent, or something worse."

"I gave you that freedom because I wanted for you to learn of your power in the most natural way. Now that you have discovered it, if you permit, I will train you in what I know with my abilities. After I have taught you all I am able, there are others who will aid you where I will not be able to."

"Where would I find these individuals?"

"They will find you." Valaira gave her mother an exasperated look. This was getting a bit overwhelming.

"None of this was my doing. This has been planned since before you were born. I advise that you embrace it, if not, you will loose yourself."

As it turns out, Valaira had went back home at a perfect time, her sister who was married to Lord Elrond of Imladris almost fifty year ago was pregnant with her first child.

* * *

Her mother, Lady Galadriel was her first teacher, she had taught her the basics of magic, how to use it, when to use it, and the consequences of using certain types or too much at a time. Apparently many have died trying to control their magic…or the lack of controlling it. But it seemed as though mother and daughter were not quite on the same page. This became an issue that the two could not sort out, no matter how many time Celeborn had intervened. She needed her next mentor.

Surprisingly it was an old friend, Gandalf the grey. He understood Valaira more then her mother had, and she learnt even more from him. She also learned a thing or two from Radagast. Valaira came to adore the odd fellow,which could not be said for the White Wizard. Gandalf had said time and time again that she would learn vast amounts of knowledge from the man, but after spending only three days with him, her temper had had enough. The White Wizard was supposed to be her next mentor, but that was not going to happen. There was just something about him that made her temper flair.

* * *

She had started traveling to different parts of Middle Earth just learning the different cultures, then traveling to wherever her heart desired. In Erid Luin she came across an elf that would forever change her life. Arvellon.

Valaira had come across his home in the middle of the forest at the foot of the Blue Mountains. At the time no one was there, but the fire was still hot. She nosed around for a few minutes, not finding anything particularly interesting. She was just heading out when she had that feeling that she was being watched, but she kept walking. Even when she was minutes away from the cottage, she was sure she was being followed. She fired a warning shot where she thought the eyes would be. The arrows' tip was glowing as it had been since that first night, the spark hit its target, but the target deflected it, sending the ball of energy up into the sky.

"I mean you know harm." A male voice soothed from a distance. A tall figure emerged from the trees, with arms raised. He was an elf.

"What do you want?" Valaira kept her bow trained on him.

"I would like to know who found my little dwelling." He replied, lowering his hands.

"It was not hard to find, just lying in the middle of the forest." She explained, lowering her bow, he was weaponless.

"I beg to differ, no one has found my home in centuries."

She gave him an odd look at that. "Who are you?" She questioned.

"I am Arvellon of Lorien." He answered smoothly.

"Really? Where in Lorien?" Someone from home, this far away from home.

"To the North near the river. May I ask where you hail from?"

"Caras Galadhon, but I am rarely there." That makes the both of us, she thought.

"Why have you come all the way to the Erid Luin?" She had relaxed, nothing about him felt threatening.

"I travel to many places, I have not been here before, and I have heard interesting tales of this place. So why not?"

Valaira ended up staying in Erid Luin for a significant portion of her life.

Arvellon taught her how to feel her surrounding, literally. By focusing on the life surrounding her she could tell If an insect buzzed, or a bird flew in her vicinity. She could direct its movements, dig in their thoughts. Elves had a natural talent for communicating with animals; Valaira had learnt how to take it a step further by being able to control them. She would never take advantage of life around her, never would harm anything, unless they deserved it. If this was the case, she was more then capable of seriously harming it. Arvellon taught her the consequences of misusing this gift….she had unknowingly killed a baby bunny rabbit, by leading it towards what she soon found out was a snakes home.

He had been one of the mentors that her mother had spoke of, but he didn't admit it at first. Decades passed, their friendship grew, there was a point where he did not have any thing else to teach her. But she couldn't leave, She loved him, and he loved her.

She loved him, but he was killed before they could do anything serious about it. They were elves, time wasn't one of their worries. They traveled the Blue Mountains together. Arvellon helped her master the skills he had taught her. She learned that smaller animals were much easier to control then bigger ones, like dear or wolves. Arvellon had told her that controlling anything bigger then herself was mostly impossible, but there are always circumstances in which anything can happen. He talked her into trying to control himself, something she thought was so wrong, but tried anyway. It didn't work out well, for her. He easily blocked her efforts, she hadn't known that was possible at the time, and he took control of her own body and guided her lips to his own. This was something that happened often.

But one night in Erid Luin, an unmanned untrained pack of wargs attacked their campfire and they tore his head off with their teeth, quickly followed with his arms and legs. He had been trying to protect her from this sudden attack, and he had been viciously killed. She can still hear his screams.

* * *

There wasn't a day that passed that Valaira did not think about him. As time passed, the pain lessoned, but the memories would forever be clear as crystal in her mind.

It wasn't long after the death of her beloved when she quite suddenly felt strange and light headed while exploring unknown parts of the mountains. The sudden change in her state of mind caused her to slip on a mossy slab of stone and bash her head on a branch on the way down, she blacked out.

* * *

When she awoke, there were a group of people surrounding her.

"Welcome, our daughter." A blond haired man greeted.

"We have been waiting for centuries for this day." A dark haired woman continued.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"We are the Holy Ones. I am Manwe, the King of Valar. "…I must have hit my hard _really_ hard… Valaira thought with wide eyes.

"You have learned much with your mentors, you are finally ready for the weapon that will destroy Melkors plans." Manwe presented her with a pure white silver ring with an ovular glossy black jewel in the middle. It was a simple design but beautiful all the same.

The King placed the ring into the palm of Valairas hand, for such a small object it was heavy. Weighed down with numerous spells and enchantments, this ring was more then just dangerous, it was deadly. She hesitantly slid it onto her middle finger.

"With this ring, you and only you will have the power to overthrow the evil that will take middle earth if not defeated. Misuse this weapon and the blood of thousands will stain your soul. If this ring falls into the wrong hands, there will be no hope for the lives of Men." Flashes of lifeless bodies filled her eyes, bodies of men, woman and children. The eyes of the Arda watched her closely.

"Learn its powers, for you will have to use them soon enough. We will help when need be, do not be frightened of this ring, it was made to save lives." The fourteen members of the Valar were disappearing before her eyes.

The last thing she had in her mind was "…why me?"

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: Hi all, I am sorry about the delay in an update, but I had some troubles with this chapter. I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer: I only own my OC

* * *

Chapter 2

The Shire. Valaira had never seen such a simple place. No traces of evil could be found. It was quite refreshing and relaxing. Valaira was also quite curious to see a hobbit for the first time. In all her years of traveling Middle Earth, she had never come across a Halfling. For some strange reason they never seemed to venture far from their homes. The elf herself could not fathom staying in the Lothlorien woods for her whole life, she felt like she would die of boredom.

Gandalf, someone she had known for thousands of years, had asked her to join him and lend her help for a quest he had in mind. She was to meet him and the rest of the group to find out what this expedition was going to involve. Gandalf had said he left his mark on the Hobbits door. The wizard also asked her to come a bit later then the others, something about their leader not being too fond of elves and he had to warm this person up to the idea, which was fine with her. But she had a while to wait for that, it was still about midday, which meant more time to relax and study the lives of hobbits.

She could not believe how small the children were. The little ones who seemed to be around ten years of age could be no larger then a new born babe. And seeing them out running around, laughing and giggling at such a size was quite bizarre to see.

The sun was starting to fall, and the hobbits were making their way to their homes and the local pubs. Valaira could not help but think how she could spend a few decades here just relaxing.

* * *

As the sky grew dark she noticed the dwarves making their way towards the meeting place. First one burly dwarf knocked on the front door, then an old gray haired one. Soon after that two younger dwarves, followed by a group of them including Gandalf. The final dwarf knocked almost an hour after the others, this one was taller then the others and wore finer clothes. She guessed this was their leader.

Valaira figured now was the best time to start making her way over to the hobbit hole. She knocked three times and heard the voices stop. Small footsteps padded their way toward the door before it opened.

Bilbo hadn't expected a tall female to be at his door.

"Well I must say you are an improvement over the pack of dwarves sitting in my dining room." Valaira smiled at the strange fellow. She couldn't believe how small he was, he came just above her waist.

"Don't just leave the lady standing out in the cold Bilbo, bring her inside." Gandalf called from down the hall.

"Now Thorin, I know you said to find you a burglar, which I did, but this woman will be able to help the company claim Erebor." She heard Gandalf start to introduce her as she Bilbo welcomed her into his home. She had to bow her head to not smash it against the frames.

"A woman? How could a woman help us defeat a dragon?" Thorin asked incredulously. Several murmurs of agreement could be heard from the older dwarves. The younger ones perked up a bit when she ducked under the last wall frame.

"Well I have killed three dragons in my time. Maybe that might be of some benefit?" Valaira replied coldly. If this dwarf was going to be one of those sexist abominations on middle earth then she was going to rethink this whole thing through again.

"Three dragons? How do you kill three dragons and live to tell the tail?" A blond dwarf asked. Thorin had to turn around on his chair to see this dragonslayer. Valaira saw the king under the mountains face for the first time, and his eyes pierced though her and her heart skipped a beat.

"Very carefully." She replied, receiving multiple looks of disappointment. Their had to be several good stories with this elf.

"Thorin Oakenshield may I introduce a _very_ old friend, Valaira." Valaira bowed her head in greeting to everyone, her pointed ears revealed themselves as her locks fell forward.

"You would bring an _Elf _to help us on our quest?" Thorin stood up and shouted at Gandalf. "Have you lost your mind old man? Never trust an Elf."

Sexist and racist, and if he thought Gandalf was old.. She almost chuckled inside.

"Trust is something that one builds over time, and I trust Valaira with my _life _Thorin, I would trust her with _all_ of your lives. Before you go judging someone you have not had the pleasure of meeting, please get to know them first." Gandalf did not speak his mind like this on a day to day basis, and the elf knew this and threw an appreciative glance his way. Which he nodded in acceptance.

Thorin still stood in front of his chair, huffing like a child. Next to him, the Hobbit was looking quite confused.

"What quest are you referring to exactly? And why is there a dragon involved?" He asked nervously.

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." A dark haired dwarf with an odd hat replied to Bilbo.

The dwarf Bofur, then went on to tell how death by dragon fire would feel. Bilbo then fainted and Thorin had ignored her for the rest of the night.

* * *

As the Dwarves were readying themselves to sleep before their long journey, Valaira went outside for the night. The Shire was a quite peaceful place, and she intended to bask in it for as long as possible. And as far as she was concerned the Hobbit hole full of snoring Dwarves was far from peaceful.

She had situated herself on the small bench in the garden when two of the youngest dwarves opened the door and spotted her.

"Our uncle is a very stubborn and grumpy old man, but once he gets to know you, he will warm up to you. Don't worry."

"I am not worried; a grumpy dwarf is the least of my worries. But I have not been introduced to the two of you, which is concerning indeed."

"I'm Fili." The blond one said, "And this is my little brother Kili, at your service."

"We were just wondering if you could tell us how you killed three dragons?" Kili, the brown haired one asked, pulling some puppy eyes.

"I see no harm in that, I will tell you how I slayed my first dragon, but then you must go back inside and sleep." The two dwarves nodded quickly and sat themselves one either side of her on the bench.

" Ancalagon was bred by Sauron in the first age, he was meant to be the mightiest dragon of them all, but he had quite an appetite for Humans and horses. I poisoned the grass where some horses grazed with something that would not harm the horses but be deadly to the dragon. But my love for innocent animals is far greater then that of wicked Men. I freed some foul and evil men from their cells and had them drink poisoned ale. Then led them drunk from the tavern and into the dragons' lair. Ancalagon thoughtlessly chewed them up, in the wee hours of the morning he dropped to the ground dead. Now off to bed you get."

The brothers sat their a bit stunned, they were expecting an epic battle between a dragon and this elleth, not this darker story. But they walked inside anyway, leaving Valaira to her thoughts, which were consumed with Thorin's eyes.

His eyes reminded her of Arvellon, her first love. She released a long sigh and let her head fall backwards so she was looking towards the stars. Valaira liked to think that her heart was mended, but when it ached like it had at times such as this, she was kidding herself.

Before she knew it, the sun was lighting up the sky, she had spent the night staring up at the stars. And her neck was a bit stiff from it too. Movement from the inside of the hobbit hole reminded her that they were probably leaving soon. She stretched her muscles and cracked her sore neck before she went inside.

Bed pads and the dwarves sleeping in them were literally all over the floor. Valaira had to tip toe between the snoring lumps to get to Gandalf who was sitting in front of the smoldering fire, smoking. She lowered herself in the chair opposite of him.

"Did I miss anything last night?" Valaira asked quietly.

"Not much, other then many arguments over you and Bilbo. Surprisingly, Fili and Kili had no objections to either of you." The elf figured that the two brothers were the kind of people who thought the more the merrier. Her gaze drifted towards the young brothers who were sleeping in the corner right next to each other. They were quite the pair.

Not long after everyone was awake, the dwarves were having a quick meal before packing up to head out. But Valaira had not seen Bilbo since the night before.

"Is the Hobbit not coming Gandalf?"

"He did not sign the contract." Thorin said bluntly as he passed.

"And neither did you." He said pointedly.

"I think you will find that I have signed your contract Thorin Oakenshield." She replied lightly.

Thorin looked at her with a raised brow; she never even touched the document, Thorin then went off in search of Balin to see the proof. Sure enough, the elf's mark was at the bottom of the list.

Valaira had in fact signed it moments after Thorin had said she hadn't signed it, just to be sure he wasn't one hundred percent against her. If he had ignored her she would have done the same to him. But it turns out there was hope for him after all.

The dwarves were ready to leave, the hobbit still slept in his room. He would be unaware that anyone was in his home when he awoke, apart from his empty pantry.

After one final sweep to make sure they didn't forget anything, the dwarves left the hobbit hole and walked to the stable where the ponies slept the night.

"Gandalf, I did not plan to take an elf with us so I did not have a horse brought along with the ponies." Thorin emphasized the word elf with an undertone of hate.

"I have my own horse Thorin Oakenshield, you need not worry about my transportation." Valaira ignored the fact that Thorin was talking about her when she was standing three feet away from him.

"I see no horse other than Gandalf's." Thorin observed, finally looking at her.

"Phraia will come when I call her." She said following the dwarves, now on ponies, out of the Shire. When the company entered the forest, Valaira whistled a long high pitched tone, a few moments after a beautiful black horse galloped towards her, rearing when she saw the ponies.

The elf calmed her by stoking her nose and telling her in elvish that she would be traveling with these ponies for a small while so why not make some friends. Phraia huffed at this but allowed Valaira to mount her. Not seconds later, the horse bolted ahead of everyone else.

"That horse needs to be tamed." Dwalin commented.

"Many have tried; Valaira is the only one who can handle her."

"That horse does not look like it is under control." Thorin argued. Looks more like a wild beast, he thought.

"Don't be too sure about that Thorin. Look closer." And he did, and he saw the elf muttering in her native language to the horse, urging it to go faster.

That elf needed to be tamed, not the horse, Thorin thought.

* * *

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